Eve fingered the roses perched on the edge of her desk and hummed a soft song to herself. Life had been wonderful these past few days.
The attention Julian had showered her with—the lavish dinners he had planned—it was like she had been transported back to the days when she first met him. Only this time, there was a maturity to him—this time, he was playing for keeps.
She still couldn't believe how he had instantly forgiven her when she had told him the truth about Ethan, Sam, and Grace. Never in her life had she felt so completely accepted for the person she was—so unconditionally loved.
It made her feel like she could do anything. That even after all of these years, she and Julian actually might be able to locate their son.
That she actually might be able to piece her life back together—to repair the cracks in her heart.
Her eyes slipping to the other corner of her desk, she inched her hand over to the picture perched upon it and ran her fingers down its frame.
Whitney and Simone.
Eve picked up the picture, hope swelling in her chest.
If she was really going to piece her life back together, rekindling the relationship she once had with her daughters was the most important place she could start.
"Do you have everything you need to lead basketball practice?" Sheridan asked Kay.
"Yup, Sheridan. I've got it," Kay said. "Thanks for making sure we got court time today."
"It was my pleasure," Sheridan smiled. "I know that things have been getting a little out of hand since Luis doesn't have as much time to devote to running this program, but that's why your uncle Hank and I are here—to get things back in order."
"Speaking of which, you might want to check in on the arts and crafts room," Hank said, strolling up to Sheridan and Kay with a large box in his hand. "I've got the rec room under control, but I never got a chance to finish setting up those papier-mâché projects."
"Don't worry. I've got it, Hank," Sheridan said.
Sheridan walked into the crafts room and squatted down to get some supplies. Her body freezing at the sound of someone crying behind her, she turned around.
"Simone?" Sheridan asked, rising to her feet. "Simone, what happened?"
Simone hugged her knees to her chest and buried her head in her hands.
Sheridan frowned softly and lowered herself down next to Simone.
Simone looked up at Sheridan and then burst into a fresh set of tears.
"Do you want to talk about it, Simone?" Sheridan covered Simone's hand with her own.
Simone shook her head.
"Is it okay if I just sit with you then?" Sheridan asked. "Sometimes, it helps not to be alone."
Simone considered this for a moment and then nodded softly.
Sheridan squeezed her shoulder.
Simone cried harder.
"I saw Chad with Whitney earlier today," Simone choked out. "And he was kissing her!"
Sheridan furrowed her brow in confusion; she thought Whitney was Chad's girlfriend. Obviously, Simone didn't think that, though—obviously, she was missing something big.
Sheridan put one arm around Simone. "Why don't you tell me the entire story from start to finish? I promise, I'll sit here with you as long as you need me to."
"Thanks, Sheridan. You're really nice," Simone said, a small smile appearing beneath her tears. "I can see why my mother likes you."
Sheridan smiled softly. "Eve is a special woman. And she loves you so much, Simone. I can hear it in her voice every time she talks about you."
"She still talks about me?" Simone asked. "Even though we all won't talk to her?"
"Of course she does," Sheridan said, curling the fingers of her free hand around her belly. "She could never stop loving you."
"I wish I could talk to her, Sheridan."
"Why can't you, Simone?"
"I don't know," Simone cried. "Daddy and Whitney are both just so angry with her."
Sheridan studied Simone for a moment. "But how do you feel, Simone?"
Eve stopped at the door to the youth center. What was she doing here? What if Simone wouldn't even talk to her? What if she just walked away?
That's what Simone had done in the past, wasn't it? Retreated to the safety net of her father and sister? Backed away to a place where secrets weren't lurking in every corner, ready to shatter her happiness, ready to upend her entire life?
That's what she had done herself, hadn't she? By keeping her past from TC? She had torn apart her family, yanked the stable life her daughters had out from underneath them—filled their hearts with nothing but pain and chaos.
That hadn't been her intention. It had never been what she wanted. It had been the opposite, in fact.
All she had ever wanted was to love and protect them—for them to always feel safe and loved.
No matter how nervous she was that Whitney and Simone would lash out at her—that she would feel like a terrible person again—she had to push past that.
She had to figure out how to get her daughters to trust her again.
That was her job as a parent, wasn't it? To be there for them no matter what?
That chance had been stolen away from her once when her son had died, and she wasn't going to let it slip through her fingers again.
Straightening her back, Eve took a deep breath in and opened the door to the youth center. Striding across the floor, she stopped short in front of the arts and crafts room, where she found Sheridan comforting her younger daughter.
Eve's heart plummeted as she took in the sight of Simone's shaking form.
Something was hurting her daughter. Something had hurt her daughter, and she hadn't been there to stop it.
Sheridan looked up and then nudged Simone, whose eyes flew up to Eve's.
"Mom?" Simone asked meekly, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Simone?" Eve's voice cracked, her heart clenching. "Simone, sweetie, what's wrong?"
